Pansies

The bolt of Cupid fell:* * * upon a little western flower,Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound,And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

Pray, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

I pray, what flowers are these?The pansy this,O, that's for lover's thoughts.

Pansies (Viola Tricolor) are a large group of hybrid plants cultivated as garden flowers. Pansies are derived from Viola species Viola tricolorhybridized with other viola species, these hybrids are referred to as Viola × wittrockiana or less commonly Viola tricolor hortensis. The name "pansy" also appears as part of the common name for other Viola species that are wildflowers in Europe. Some unrelated species, such as the Pansy Monkeyflower, also have "pansy" in their name.

Pansies? You praise the ones that grow todayHere in the garden; had you seen the placeWhen Sutherland was living!Here they grew,From blue to deeper blue, in midst of eachA golden dazzle like a glimmering star,Each broader, bigger than a silver crown;While here the weaver sat, his labor done,Watching his azure pets and rearing them,Until they seem'd to know his step and touch,And stir beneath his smile like living things:The very sunshine loved them, and would lieHere happy, coming early, lingering late,Because they were so fair.

I send thee pansies while the year is young, Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night;Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light;And if in recollection lives regret For wasted days and dreams that were not true,I tell thee that the "pansy freak'd with jet"Is still the heart's ease that the poets knewTake all the sweetness of a gift unsought,And for the pansies send me back a thought.

They are all in the lily-bed, cuddled close together-Purple, Yellow-cap, and little Baby-blue;How they ever got there you must ask the April weather,The morning and the evening winds, the sunshine and the dew.